lying restless (as the dawn comes near)
by TheJGatsby
Summary: They have a tradition for nightmares.


A/N: Sequel to "if you trust what's in your heart (what better can you do)"  
Title from Heart of Nowhere by Noah and the Whale

In the months since Ben came back, he and Rey have been carefully, tentatively cultivating their Force bond. It's not much, right now, a lot of strong emotions and accidental mind-reading, but it's the start of something. They've learned how to block each other out, which was a necessity after Ben's internal monologue kept distracting Rey during practice sparring. Most of their practice comes from meetings between the Jedi "council"- which is really just Rey, Finn, and, after a lot of cajoling, Ben, trying to represent the Jedi in the new Galactic government- and Senators, because Ben got his smart mouth from his mother and he seems to enjoy watching Rey go almost purple in the face trying not to laugh.

The downside to the bond comes at night, when neither of them can consciously block the other out, and their dreams will blur into each other, dropping Rey into hellish nightmares of fire and blood, dragging Ben into arid, miserable memories of wandering Jakku with a mouthful of sand and an empty stomach and a head pounding from dehydration.

Rey wakes up in a cold sweat tonight, a scream choked in her throat. She blinks for a moment, orienting herself, shaking off the nightmare- it was horrifying and violent and it's already faded almost completely from her mind, so that means it was his. Hers tend to consist of agonizing tedium and an undercurrent of tense anxiety, not the all-consuming, soul-rending terror that dominates his worst dreams. Then she stands up quickly and yanks on her boots, unlocking the front door on her way to the kitchen and getting out the ingredients for hot chocolate, opening her mind to him.

The blue milk is heating on the stove when she catches the shaky, tentative call to her across the Force. _I'm awake,_ she sends back. _My door is open._ In answer she gets a rush of relieved gratitude and she smiles slightly at the two mugs she's set out on the counter. As she's stirring the chocolate she hears her front door close softly and his heavy barefoot step coming down the hall, and she's leaning against the counter and holding one of the mugs out to him when he gets there. He stops in the doorway, looking haunted like she's rarely seen him, his hands shaking violently despite his efforts to hide it through tensely clenched fists. He lets out a gusty sigh like he'd been holding his breath, like he'd almost expected her not to be there. She raises her eyebrows at him with a soft smile and he crosses the room, taking one of the mugs and leaning against the counter next to her, shoulders pressed together.

That's another thing they've learned about each other- touch. Spending fifteen years on the dark side and growing up alone on a desert planet tend to be fairly isolating, so they're both endlessly hungry for physical contact that isn't violent.

She presses her forehead against his shoulder, wrapping her free arm around his. "D'you want to talk about it?" she asks, gently. It's part of their routine- whenever one of them has a nightmare, the other's there with hot chocolate and quiet comfort. Rey's chocolate is, objectively, better than Ben's, but he really does try.

His voice is rough and shaky when he finally says, "Snoke had my mom. And you. I was running and running and I never got any closer and then I had to choose and I could hear you both screaming and I-" He cuts himself off, grinding his teeth. "I knew it wasn't real but I…."

"It's okay," says Rey, putting down her mug and reaching up to pull his face into her shoulder. His arms come around her waist fiercely, tightly, and she can still feel his hands shaking against her shoulder and her hip as he tugs her halfway into his lap just to have her closer. She runs her fingers through his hair and feels him gradually relax against her.

"I chose you," he murmurs, and she can feel it, the memory of that dream despair, of realizing that his heart would be broken either way but she was the one he couldn't live without, and the feeling is so intense that she has to block him out for a moment to settle herself. When she opens herself back up he's still a mess and she sits there, fingers stroking through her hair, eyes closed.

She doesn't know anymore how she ever stood being alone. The thought of going back to the solitude she grew up in makes her want to scream, and she's gotten so used to him just on the edge of her consciousness, a constant companion. And it's so comforting to _have_ someone, the way Rey and Ben belong to each other, a reassuring, dependable permanence. Rey knows that Ben will always be there, will always be her friend- there's something of fate to the way they're drawn together, but mostly it's just trust, it's the fact that she was the one who reached out to him, who believed in him, who took a chance on him. His gratitude and loyalty to her for that runs deep.

"You're thinking very loud," he says, interrupting her reverie.

"Sorry."

"Don't be," he says fondly. "You think so well of me, it's always flattering to overhear."

She sticks her tongue out at him, and he grins in response. They sit in comfortable silence, the night still around them, and gradually the remaining distress in Ben's mind eases into calm contentment.

"Thank you," he says, pressing a kiss to her hair, and she sighs happily. Physical affection will never stop being thrilling and novel to her, to either of them. She closes her eyes, heavy with the hour, just for a moment, and then she's drifting off and Ben is gently rearranging her so she's collapsed against him, comfortable and happy and relaxed, the steady beat of his heart against her ear.


End file.
